A matter of Faith
by Cydira
Summary: Immortal serial killer vs. Duncan
1. Default Chapter

"Why do you even bother coming in here anymore, MacLeod?" a voice whispered in Duncan's ear as he sat in the pew. About the two Immortals, the sound of the brother's chanting Kyrie hung in a cloud of resonance. The chant was as old as their lifetimes, easily. "Their singing to something that doesn't even exist," the voice said in a curt tone, the loathing was thinly veiled. Duncan sat stone still, his head inclined slightly, his hands folded in a composed gesture of stillness. He focused on the singing, but the Immortal behind him distracted him with their discordiant presence. "I mean, it's rather morbid ." the other started in their hissing whisper.  
  
Duncan turned, his eyes opening as he turned. They took in the aged stones of the columns supporting the barrel vaulted ceiling, the glittering beauty of the stained glass, and the contemptious expression of the man sitting behind him. He was younger then Duncan, by many, many years. In apperance, he seemed only a few years his younger. Dark hair tied back in a ragged pony tail, greasy with some unknown grime that the younger Immortal had acquired, framed a narrow, sallow face. His eyes were bright, to some it would be with vigor, but it was actually burgeoning insanity. Cat green and glittering behind a pair of narrow eyeglasses, they were the only thing that stood out about this dingy figure with a sallow face and a lean build. Dressed in dark colored clothes, he seemed to be a much dirtier and exceedingly repugnant impersonation of the Highlander.  
  
"You mock what you have no hope of understanding," Duncan said quietly, "They live their lives with something that most of our kind have lost. If you're trying to goad me by this mockery of their lives, you really can't." The younger Immortal's scornful expression became one that was closer to anger. "If you're going to challenge me, then do it. Otherwise, leave me alone," Duncan continued, turning to face the time worn altar. The noise of the other standing and then the echo of their steps as they left was cacaphony to the singing of the men of the monastery.  
  
Duncan left the church several hours later. As he got into his car, his cell phone rang. He opened it and then nearly dropped it when he heard what Joe had to say. Some one had slaughtered several individuals at the Buddhist monastery in the next town over. The method was beheading. None of the deceased were Immortals. A chill settled in the pit of Duncan's stomach. This was another in the wave of killings through out the state. 


	2. God Provides

At various religious communities, several individuals had been beheaded. There appeared to be no theme to the killings aside from the mode and the fact that it had been a religious community. The first attacked was a gathering of imams at a mosque at the southern end of the state. It was attributed to a hate crime and the case gathered dust. Then an Anglican seminary was attacked. It followed with many other killings. No one seemed to be safe if they were clergy. While Duncan was troubled by the events, he was confident that the killer would be caught and it was just an insane mortal. He was woefully wrong, as he realized. Duncan left the church parking lot and drove home. Once he was home, he called a cab and returned. As Duncan stood at the church grounds, looking around the area, one of the brothers approached him.  
  
"Brother Xavier," Duncan said with a smile, recognizing the thin, aging man from their various chats on the youth program that Duncan was participating in at the dojo. Xavier smiled at Duncan and placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. He looked the Scotsman over and shook his head a little. Xavier was a thin man, ravaged by time but his youthful heart shone in his eyes and his warm smile. As Xavier looked Duncan over, the Immortal thought about how this kindly man had seemed to hold him with a fatherly regaurd since their first meeting upon Duncan's arrival in town.  
  
"You're too thin, Duncan," Xavier said with a gleam in his gray eyes, "Come, we'll have lunch together." As they walked the grounds to the aging house that served as the home for Xavier and several of his brothers, Duncan looked at the gardens. They were past their peak, the blossoms were fading and beginning to fall from the different summer plants as the autumn ones were almost in bud. "Yes, it does look bleak," Xavier said, "But it always does before things turn around." Duncan smiled at this and held the door open.  
  
The glass made the light ripple over the broad table in the kitchen. A few of the other brothers looked at Duncan with smiles of recognition as they were finishing preparation of the afternoon meal. The large kitchen had the feeling of something older, though Duncan couldn't quite place the era. With the brightly polished and scrubbed copper pots hanging from the rack over the center of the table, the plaster walls, and heavy oak beams across the ceiling, the room felt intimate. Large windows over looking the herb bed just outside the kitchen, next to the back door that the two men had walked in, filled the room with light. Looking out them, one saw the herb bed, a flagstone courtyard, the walk way down to the church and the parking lot, and then the road. Behind the house was the tidily kept cemetary, covering nearly two acres. These brothers maintained the cemetary, the church, the grounds, and assisted the priest who lived across the street.  
  
Fortunately, or unfortunately on some days, Duncan had discovered that they were not bound by a vow of silence. As they gathered about the table, there was roughly twenty men there. They bowed their heads and shared their prayer of thanksgiving. Then, they sat and shared their meal. The topic of conversation turned to the slayings. Xavier listened to the conversation and watched Duncan's expression as he listened, keeping his gaze schooled on the bowl of green beans just beyond his plate. "My friend, those green beans must be quite interesting for you to be starting at them like that," Xavier gently teased, smiling as Duncan blinked and looked at him in mild confusion, to the warm laughter of the brothers. "All of this troubles you, doesn't it?" he asked, as a silence settled over the table.  
  
Duncan looked at the pottery plate infront of him, his gaze taking in every detail of the gray glazed, fired clay. He weighed his words carefully and then spoke. "Yes, these killings are disturbing me. I'm afraid for all of your safety, to be honest, Brother Xavier," Duncan said quietly, "I'm concerned that the killer may come here. What will you all do?" Duncan looked at the men sitting about him. Their ages ranged from about 45 to 70. Duncan tried not to fear for them, but it was all too difficult. Having known these men for a few years now, he had learned much of their life stories and most hadn't a military background. Those who did had no hope against a young man in hand to hand combat.  
  
Xavier shrugged and looked at his brothers. A few nodded and others returned to their meal in subdued silence. "Aside from calling the police," he said quietly, "we will trust in God to keep us safe."  
  
As evening began to fall, Duncan walked the grounds of the church. Xavier and the other brothers were content to let him do so for as long as his heart desired. As he looked down at several tombstones in his walking, he thought about the killings. Duncan suspected that the younger Immortal that he had met that day was responsible for the acts. He also suspected that this community was the next target.  
  
Night settled over the world and still there was no sign of the other Immortal. As Duncan leaned against a marble mosoleum, watching the road and the buildings at the other end of the grounds, his head began to hurt and he saw a dark figure run up to the darkened house. It was nearly midnight. As Duncan watched the figure, the full moon was hidden by a cloud briefly. Emerging from the shadows of his hiding place, Duncan began to run.  
  
He leapt the tombstones like hurdles as he watched the figure shatter the large window to the kitchen. As they entered, lights came on in the upstairs of the house. A cry broke the night as Duncan kicked the door to the kitchen in, the sword at his side screaming free. Duncan ran through the kitchen and the open room that served as library and office for the brothers towards the scuffle he heard. There was the unmistakeable sound of steel screaming free from a scabbard as Duncan burst into the living room.  
  
There, poised over a beaten Brother Xavier was the other Immortal. The one that had mocked them so bitterly. His sword was drawn and he was ready to bring it down on the battered man's neck as he slumped on the ground from several well placed blows. The other started to look over at Duncan and he grinned. "Don't forget the rules of the Game," he said as he raised the sword up slightly. Duncan crossed the room in a few swift paces and heartbeats before the razor sharp edge could bite into Xavier's neck, it crashed into Duncan's own sword. The other Immortal looked at Duncan in fury and shock.  
  
"You, me, now," Duncan said in a quiet growl. The other looked up briefly at the faces of the other brothers looking down the stairwell. He smiled and then returned his gaze to Duncan, his eyes bright with madness.  
  
"I'll be back for them another night," he said, moving his sword away from Duncan's and sketched a mock salute before sheathing it and running out of the house. Duncan sheathed his katana and knelt beside Xavier. Brother Xavier looked up, a wan smile on his face.  
  
"I told you that God provides. Go, stop him." Xavier said as the others came down stairs and the wail of a siren wafted to them on the night's air. 


End file.
